


'Twas the Night

by danceswithgary



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Romance, SGA Secret Santa 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 05:42:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13070322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithgary/pseuds/danceswithgary
Summary: "Guess you and Aiden make a habit of taking in strays." (Never a Stargate AU)





	'Twas the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tarlan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/gifts).



 

**'Twas The Night**

It only took an instant for the harsh sound of the door buzzer to be drowned out by a chorus of barks. Although the dogs were quickly hushed by a curt command, it was more than enough to disrupt the evening's mood.

"That'd better not be more carolers," Rodney grumbled into his mulled cider. It had been a long day at the clinic, and he was more than ready to settle in for a long winter's nap. Jeannie fumbled for the remote to pause the DVD they'd been watching, but Rodney set aside his mug to lever himself up from his orthopedic recliner before she or Madison could disentangle themselves from the cats. "I've got it. Just keep watching. It's not as if I haven't seen _It's a Wonderful Life Before_ before." He ruffled Madison's hair as he passed by the sofa, stage-whispering, "Don't tell your mom, but the angel gets his wings."

Grinning at Jeannie's fake dismay and Madison's giggles, he made his way down the hallway, shouting over a second buzz and renewed barking, "Hold your horses! I'm coming!"

Rodney directed the dogs to wait at their designated spot with a, "Be polite," and waited for three sets of haunches to hit the ground before snagging his weapon of choice from one of the myriad hooks on the wall. As he opened the door, he growled, "Be prepared to run if you're off-key!"

The slim man on the doorstep raised his eyebrows and took a half-step back before drawling, "Uh, I'm not real big on singing and didn't bring my guitar?"

Rodney lowered his patented tennis ball launcher and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, thought you were another batch of carolers. Three times in one night was asking too much."

"I can see how too many drummer boys could get old," the man agreed, his face crinkling into a very attractive smile. "So, I'm hoping I'm at the right house. Are you Doctor McKay? Aiden Ford gave me your address and said he'd let you know I was coming." He offered his hand for Rodney to shake. "I'm John Sheppard, by the way. I'm staying with Aiden and Miko for a few weeks."

Rodney frowned and accepted Sheppard's cold hand for a moment as he replied, "Yes, I'm Rodney McKay and no, I haven't heard from Aiden. What's the problem?" Noticing the snow dusting the man's dark hair and leather jacket, Rodney added, "You might as well come inside while we figure things out." Rodney backed up to let the man into the hallway. Peering outside before closing the door, Rodney marveled at the blowing snow. "Wow, it's really coming down out there. It was just a few flurries when I left the clinic."

"Nearly a foot now and the forecast says maybe another two before morning," Sheppard said, grimacing as he looked down at his snow-covered combat boots. "Uh, I'm afraid I'm making a mess here." 

Rodney dismissed Sheppard's concerns with a wave of his hand. He'd stopped fussing about messes somewhere between the first dog and second cat he'd rescued. He pointed to the nearby boot tray as he hung up the launcher. "Just kick your boots off there and hand me your coat." A whine from down the hall reminded Rodney that he'd forgotten their audience. "You don't mind dogs, do you?" He pointed down the hall toward the three dogs, who were getting a little fidgety but still obeying.

Boots discarded, Sheppard paused in the middle of unzipping his jacket. "Uh, I don't, but I don't know about this one." He reached inside his jacket and tugged until a small black head appeared. "Aiden sent me here so you could check this little guy out?" 

"Here, give him to me." Rodney accepted the warm, slightly damp bundle, checking it over quickly before tucking it close. "Make that her, likely a pit-mix, about six weeks old. If Aiden sent you, I'm assuming she's a stray?"

Sheppard nodded, brushing snow from his head to leave behind disheveled spikes. "I nearly ran him – her - over. She was so little and there weren't any houses nearby so...." He shrugged off his jacket, and Rodney couldn't help noticing him favoring his left arm and wondered if the injury was recent. 

Hanging the jacket on an empty hook, Sheppard shivered and scrubbed his right hand up and down his left arm. "Guess I'm not used to the the weather yet. It got cold where I was deployed, but not like this." 

Before Rodney could offer something to warm him up, Jeannie popped her head around the corner to say, "Then, you should come to the living room, Mr. Sheppard, for some mulled cider."

Madison squeezed past Jeannie to add, "You gotta have some cookies, too! I decorated them." 

"Please, it's John and I'm sorry I had to disturb your Christmas Eve, Mrs. McKay," Sheppard apologized with a dip of his head. "It was unavoidable."

"McKay?" Jeannie laughed. "No, we're not married. I'm his sister, Jeannie, and this is my daughter, Madison."

Madison skipped up to them, giggling. "Besides, Uncle Mer wouldn't be married to a girl. He likes boys better."

Rodney sneaked a peek at Sheppard's face, suddenly remembering few more details. Aiden had rambled on about the friend he'd invited for Christmas – an Air Force pilot he'd met during a veteran's hospital tour, hence the stiff arm. Rodney wondered whether Madison's revelation would matter. After all, Don't Ask Don't Tell was history. He was pleasantly surprised when the corner of Sheppard's – John's - mouth quirked, his hand rising to rub the back of his neck as he confessed to Madison in a stage whisper, "You know what? So do I."

Another whine punctuated the conversation, and Rodney sighed. "Uh, brace yourself for enthusiasm." He gestured at the dogs down the hall, saying, "Release."

Sheppard laughed as the dogs surged to their feet and headed toward them in a furry tsunami. He dropped to one knee to accept their greeting, his cheerful honking rising above eager whimpers and the click of dancing toenails on the hardwood floor. "What are their names?" he asked, narrowly avoiding a slurping tongue. 

Madison, who had run down the hall to join the melee, answered before Rodney could. "This one is Herriot...," pointing to the Bernese Mountain mix that Sheppard was leaning against. "...and the hound is Baxter." Madison scooped up the dust mop that was trying to climb into Sheppard's lap. "We aren't sure what Emma is, some kind of terrier. They're all named for famous veterinarians." 

"Guess you and Aiden make a habit of taking in strays." Sheppard rose back to his feet, casually dusting off the knee of his black, well-worn jeans. "Are they all yours or are they waiting for homes?"

"They're ours, silly," answered Madison, who reached for Sheppard's hand to pull him down the hall. "You haven't met the cats yet."

Pointing to the puppy, Jeannie asked, "Should I warm up a bowl of formula, Mer?"

"And bring a small bottle, just in case she hasn't been weaned. But first, I'll need one of the small cotton blankets." Rodney adjusted his furry bundle, his brow furrowing as his hands discovered something amiss. "I'll take her through and get her settled by the fire." He had an idea as to why the puppy had been left to wander. His theory was born out when he reached the living room and gently set the puppy down on the rug in front of the fire. He waved the dogs back so he could watch the small pit-mix move across the rug on her own. "Maddie, keep everyone back, okay?"

"Oh, Mer," Jeannie breathed in dismay from the doorway, clenching the blanket in her hands as she watched the puppy's staggered gait. "She's hurt."

John took a step forward, one hand raised in protest. "I swear I didn't hit her. She was off to the side and kind of wobbly, but I didn't see any blood on her." He looked down at a damp, rumpled section of his blue button-up. "She was just wet and cold."

"I believe you," Rodney assured him. "Looks like a birth defect." He picked up the puppy again and carefully manipulated her truncated right rear leg. "There's no other damage. It explains why she's so small, probably couldn't compete for food." He accepted the blanket from Jeannie and tucked it around the puppy before setting her down to let Herriot move in to take over. The dog was a natural nursemaid and Rodney depended on her instincts. After watching the two bond, he turned back to his audience and growled, "And it's probably why the damn breeder threw her away."

Sitting on the sofa, surrounded by the other two dogs and the three cats, Madison looked devastated. Rodney reined in his anger for her, softening his tone as he comforted her. "She's lucky she ended up here, right?" 

Madison nodded with a watery smile. "You'll make her better, Uncle Mer. I know you will." 

"And we'll find the right person to give her a forever home," Jeannie added. "Someone who won't care that she's different." She leaned over to place a kiss on Madison's forehead. "And I need to get that formula." She turned and left the room, headed for the kitchen

John squatted down and reached out to stroke the puppy's head, smiling when Herriot nudged his hand away in order to lick the puppy's face. He looked up at Rodney and asked, "Is there anything you can do to help her walk?" 

"When I said she was lucky, I meant it." Rodney grinned down at him. "I don't just use my 3D printer to make toys."

As John rose to his feet, a look of puzzlement crossed his handsome face. "What do you mean?"

"I mean she'll not only be able to walk,she'll be able to run." Rodney waved his arms in excitement. "I'm not only a veterinarian, I'm an engineering genius. I've been working on prosthetic prototypes. She's a perfect candidate." He frowned as a potential problem occurred to him. "I'll have to make sure whoever adopts her is willing to come back for re-fittings as she grows, so that will limit her options."

John shook his head, chuckling. "Well, Aiden has been after me with his whole 'Pets for Vets' thing for a couple of months now, even insisting I lease an apartment that allows dogs." When he smiled, Rodney couldn't help grinning back. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear he set this whole thing up."

"Guess we'll find out tomorrow when they come to dinner," Jeannie said as she came back into the room. She handed a bowl and a bottle of formula to Rodney, who then handed them over to John. 

"Uh, dinner?" John stammered, his eyes wide and his cheeks a little rosier. 

Jeannie chuckled. "You didn't know Aiden and Miko and their guest – you – were supposed to have Christmas dinner with us?" She looked at the two men standing surprisingly close to each other, her smile growing wider. "Yeah, I'm thinking setup. Now about that cider...." She left the room again, her voice floating back along the hallway. "And cookies. Lots of cookies."

Rodney suddenly found himself anticipating something more than Aiden's sweet potato pie and Miko's soba noodle casserole to offset Jeannie's tofurkey. "Huh, that's right. I hadn't made the connection."

"Neither did I." John murmured as he stared down at his hands, a baffled look on his face. "And what am I supposed to do with this?" 

Taking the bowl back, Rodney grabbed John's bicep to tug him closer to the fire. "She's going to be yours, so you may as well get started now."

Instead of taking the nearby overstuffed chair, John lowered himself to the rug with a faint grunt, filling Rodney with envy at his flexibility as John easily crossed his legs and reached over to pick up the sleepy pup. After settling her in his lap, he held up the bottle and asked Rodney, "Now what?"

Leaning over John, Rodney set the bowl on the rug. "Pour a little in this first to see if she'll lap it up."

"Oh, okay." John unscrewed the bottle and tipped about half into the bowl before setting the puppy on her feet next to it. 

When she didn't make any effort beyond sniffing the rim, Rodney dipped a finger into the formula and dabbed it on the puppy's mouth. Her tiny tongue swiped her muzzle clean, but he couldn't tempt her to dip her head and drink. Rodney sighed and said, "I was afraid of that. She hasn't been weaned." Picking up the bowl, he took the bottle from John and tipped the formula back in before screwing the nipple back on. "She'll need a substitute teat for at least a few more days." He handed the bottle back to John and then the puppy. "Here's how you hold her." Rodney arranged the puppy in John's arms and helped him get her started with the bottle then straightened up with a little groan. "I have to admit it's easier on my back when they're more than a foot tall."

"I could feed her next," Madison offered. "I helped when Baxter was little."

John smiled up at her. "I'll bet you know a lot more than I do." 

Madison nodded her head solemnly. "I didn't used to but then Daddy went to heaven and Uncle Mer's house was too big for just him so me and Mommy came here to live and he lets me help with the little ones and sometimes I go to the clinic when Mommy's teaching a late class." She huffed after her stream of words trickled to a halt, pulling a grey tiger into her lap for a hug. The lean cat stretched up to lick her cheek and she giggled. "Oh, and you didn't meet the cats! This is Athos." She pointed to the sleek black tuxedo tom draped along the top of the sofa. "That's Aramis, and the Scotch fold with the crooked tail is D'Artagnan. They sleep on my bed."

"You're lucky then." John smiled at her menagerie. "I rode horses, but my dad never allowed animals in the house. Then I went into the Air Force...." 

John had shrugged, but Rodney could hear the wistfulness in John's voice and could relate. His life had been devoid of animals until he'd rescued the missing Musketeer from a dumpster. He'd nursed Porthos back to health and kept him hidden in his dorm room - until he'd switched from MIT to Cornell and from astrophysics to veterinary medicine. He still missed the scrappy one-eyed tom, who'd ruled the roost until he'd passed away after eighteen years with Rodney.

"I think she's done." John set the bottle aside and cradled the sated black puppy in his arms, a soft look in his eyes as he gazed up at Rodney. "I guess Santa decided I deserved a lump of coal this Christmas." 

Looking around the living room filled with life, love, and Christmas lights, Rodney laughed. "I think the joke's on him."

 

365 days later

 

The house was oddly quiet when Rodney walked in, but he wasn't worried. The Forester was missing from the drive, so he guessed Maddie and Jeannie were out for some some last-minute shopping. Their usual spot had been taken by a battered Cherokee, which had made Rodney smile because he hadn't expected it so soon. Moments after doffing his outside gear, he was creeping down the hallway, curious as to what he'd find.

Coal looked up when he peered around the corner, but she didn't abandon her favored spot, tucked between a snoring John and the back of the sofa. The other dogs were equally lazy, piled up in front of the fire with the cats mixed in, although Emma did get up to offer a slightly damp, wriggly greeting. He suspected they were all tired from a run through the snow, evidenced by the sock drying on the mantle next to Coal's prosthetic.

Picking up the terrier, he carried her to his recliner, settling down to watch one of his favorite sights. John's hair was tousled, likely from the wind that also accounted for his ruddy cheeks. His lean form was sprawled along the sofa, a blanket half kicked off in his sleep, ski magazine discarded on the floor. Rodney was loathe to disturb him because he knew John would have been tired from his long flight even before he'd taken the dogs for a run. It was enough to sit and remember.

Every time Rodney looked at John, he was amazed at how lucky he'd been last Christmas Eve. The blizzard had gotten worse, so John had ended up staying, and they'd talked long into the night. Finally admitting they needed at least a few hours sleep before Madison pelted down the stairs to open presents, they'd split the cookies and milk left out for Santa and headed for their respective beds. Rodney had forgiven Aiden for his meddling long before he and Miko arrived later that day, and he suspected John had too.

Coal – as in lump of – had grown like a weed with John's diligent care, and she was more than capable to keeping up on their runs, the prosthetic working just as Rodney had predicted. Rodney and John had insisted to Jeannie and Aiden that they were just friends - until the night they'd admitted to each other that they were more. It wasn't long after that John sublet his apartment and officially moved into the house where he already spent all his downtime from piloting commercial jets.

It had been a good year, and Rodney's hope was for many more. Looking down, Rodney touched the small box in his shirt pocket, smiling at the thought that he'd be presenting John with another version of a lump of coal that night. When he looked back up to see John's sleepy smile, Rodney forgot to be worried about whether his answer would be "Yes."

**Author's Note:**

> Written for tarlanx who requested McKay/Sheppard as well as "Rodney is my favorite so I'd prefer he was central to the story. Alternate Universe (canon or make up your own!), supernatural elements (vampires, werewolves, ghosts etc), apocalypse stories of any kind are always adored, missing scenes, hurt/comfort, angst, action, slash (any rating), romance, crossovers/fusions with fandoms I know and adore (example: Eureka, Magnificent 7 (TV), Primeval/PNW, Haven, SG-1, SGU), HAPPY EVER AFTER IS A MUST, PLEASE!"
> 
> I'm afraid I only managed the pairing and AU and light romance - whenever I could make my fuzzy brain cooperate and manage to reach the keyboard over my own four dogs, who firmly believe my lap belongs to them.


End file.
